Brotime
by NewLakituPls
Summary: Alfred just wanted to have some fun with his brother. Matthew just wanted to have a normal day. Either way, something is going to happen. It is bro-time after all. Alfred and Matthew being brothers and the use of one cuss word.. Sorry, fail summary.


This is my first story... I hope you guys like it! I-It just hit me and I thought it would be cute since I don't like a lot of ideas I have when it comes to stories. But, it's pretty tame and there is only one curse word. I don't have a beta-reader. *is new*

Well, here goes nothing! *crosses fingers*

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><p>Alfred was lying on the couch, head hanging back of the arm of the furniture and looking toward the kitchen, forgetting the magazine in his hands. He blinked his sky-blue eyes, golden wheat colored hair falling back and glasses sliding forward. He looked calm and peaceful, quiet as-<p>

"Mattie! When's dinner?"

The silence was shattered.

"I told you Alfred, it will be ready soon! Be patient you hooser!" Matthew grumbled loudly, looking down at the peas he was cooking. Alfred huffed at the answer. He wanted to eat now. The American turned to his side, placing the magazine down and picking a hardback book up. He laid back on the couch, holding the book over his head as he did the magazine and yelling at his brother.

"What are we having?" Alfred's voice was loud and wearing on his nerves. He loved his brother, he really did, but Alfred could be a bit much to handle. Matthew always prided himself in his vast amount of patience and understanding, able to seek a more peaceful answer. Still, everyone had their limits.

"What else? Burgers, but you _need_ to eat some vegetables, so I threw some green beans on the stove as well."

Alfred snickered when Matthew mentioned green beans being a vegetable. The American leaned his head back over the arm of the couch and grinned, amusement in his voice as he told Matthew that, "Green beans are considered fruit you know? I don't know _how_ someone as smart you could confuse them for a vegetable, bro!"

The quiet twin felt his eye twitch, wavy blond hair brushing his face. The Canadian moved the curl out of his face, stirring the vege-_fruits_ slowly. "And why, _bro_, are they fruits?"

"They grow from the ovule of the plant, duh!" Alfred smirked, flipping through the book. Well, he would have that is, if Matthew hadn't taken it away, holding it in his hand with a wooden spoon in the other. The Canadian lifted a delicate eyebrow, placing the hand holding the wooden spoon on his hip and shifting his weight onto one foot. His violet-blue eyes narrowed in annoyance, round glasses doing nothing to hide it. Alfred at least had the dignity to look ashamed, as ashamed as the boisterous American could.

"You know what bro? _You_ can just go without dinner then…. Dumbass."

Matthew walked away, taking Alfred's book with him. He ignored his brother whining about how cruel and mean he was being, feeling justified in his action. The Canadian thought the punishment would be enough to get his brother to apologize too. Instead, the American pouted, turning over on his stomach and holding onto the arm, resting his chin on the soft, cushioned arm. "At least I don't eat the ovules of plants! You're sick bro, eating their babies! I should writing a proposal on that... Yeah, like that one guy!"

Okay, Alfred deserved that book being chucked at him, but did Matthew really need to have such scary-good aim? Alfred made a mental note to never play a shooter game with his brother, ever. He was sure he'd get screwed over in some way.

"Then you can starve! And I'm banning you from the kitchen as well!"

"But it's my kitchen! And what about bro-time! Doesn't that matter to you? The bro code man! The. Bro. Code."

Alfred was so serious with his words that Matthew almost took his words back, almost. The Canadian turned and looked at his twin and gave him a look. The deadpan look that told Alfred he was in trouble with his brother. Still, Alfred pressed on, trying to follow Matthew into the kitchen. The American grinned sheepishly, trying to out maneuver Matthew and worm his way into the kitchen. Matthew was quick as well. Maybe he shouldn't play his brother in DDR as well.

"No, for all I know, you could try to make one of those ridiculous miniature volcanoes and set it off…. Oh no, Alfred, stop!"

The door slammed shut as Alfred ran inside, pulling all kinds of supplies out. The American grinned at the idea and shouted a quick, "Thanks Mattie! You're awesome bro!" Alfred went to work building the volcano. He had to improvise, but that's what Alfred was good at, improvising. Humming, he stepped back and looked at his masterpiece, not hearing the door clicked open. After spending a near hour building it, Matthew had finally made it into the room. When he did, a few things happened at once.

Matthew screamed as Alfred poured the mixture in, distracting his – Matthew was positive he was – ADD brother and causing him to drop the entire box of baking soda in. The American blinked and it exploded in his face, ruining the Canadian's meal and getting everywhere.

"Alfred! The hell!" Matthew would have said more and Alfred would have started apologizing, but a thump stopped them. Turning slowly, the two brothers noticed a candle fell over – why Alfred would have a candle in his kitchen, Matthew would never know – and a metal rectangular container tipped over as well from the explosion. The Candle happened to be lit – it was scented after all – and the liquid squirted out the container. The liquid just happened to move toward the open flame.

"Uhhh, Mattie?"

"Oui, Alfred?"

"I think I should have listened…."

Turns out, lighter fluid and fire doesn't go together, especially in a kitchen. And that's how Matthew and Alfred found themselves, clothes black and covered in soot, sitting outside of Alfred's burning house with the kitchen blown out.

Matthew actually smacked his face with his hand; Alfred laughed nervously as he explained to the police and firefighters why his house exploded. They stared at him, blinking and looking at the two dully before writing up the report. Turns out – to Matthew's surprise – it wasn't the worst or stupidest thing the police had seen. Alfred just laughed and lifted his thumb toward no-one in particular.

"So… Bro-time at McDonalds?"

"No, in fact, bro-time is over. And you are not allowed in my kitchen or anyone else's as long as I'm around!"

"W-Wait! Mattie, wait! Bro-time can't end! You can't bro-off on me! Mattie!"

Matthew walked away, muttering in French as he tried to book a hotel on his touch phone. He couldn't stay at Alfred's now with half the house gone. The Canadian sighed in irritation as Alfred ran and tackled him in a tight hug. The American babbled loudly about being sorry and about acting better. The soft-spoken twin looked at his brother, the American giving him a hurt, kicked puppy look. Damn it, he just couldn't stay mad. They were bros after all. Even if Matthew didn't want to be most of the time, Alfred always found a way to make it up to him.

"…Fine, bro-time isn't over…."

Matthew really wished his brother controlled his voice sometimes. Well, at least he knew his brother loved him, in his own strange way.


End file.
